


You Found Me

by TeaGirrl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angels, Dungeon, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Love, One Shot, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 11:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaGirrl/pseuds/TeaGirrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumpelstiltskin finds Belle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Found Me

”If you look inside you heart, you’ve known all along she wasn’t really dead.” Dark tendrils of her hair tickled his cheek as The Evil Queen whispered in his ear.

It had been as he feared, and had somewhat hoped. Even in his happiest daydreams, he never let himself hope that maybe she was still alive. He never let himself imagine meeting her again, gazing into her beautiful blue eyes, for fear that the realization of knowing it was not meant to be would break his heart. And now, it was true. He felt the ashes of defeat in his the pit of his stomach slowly ignite and turn to glowing embers, before a spark sent his heart in a beating frenzy. He had to see her.

 

He tried to rise from his seat, anxious to leave The Queen’s office. She was standing directly in front of him, her face only inches from his; bracing herself against the arm rests of the chair he was sitting in. Her dark eyes pierced his and her mouth twitched into a crooked smile, as she saw realization and surprise play across his features. She pushed him back into his seat, wanting to torture him for just a little while longer.

“Why the hurry? She’s been alone all this time, what harm could a few more minutes do?”

Alone. She’s been all alone since they first arrived here, 28 years ago. He felt bitter tears cloud his vision as he imagined her, her body frail, her eyes stripped of their light and passion. He felt his tears overflow, and wiped them away hastily, praying that she hadn’t noticed. She had.

“Where are you keeping her?” he asked through clenched teeth. He didn’t have time for this. Every moment he wasted here was a moment he could spend with… her. “Oh, I can’t tell you that.” She drew away from him and wandered around her desk, her index finger trailing across the wooden surface of her desk as she did. “Why not?” He asked, his voice strained with trying to keep his temper under control. His hand clenched his cane tightly, in an attempt to calm himself. She chuckled. “What fun would that be?” She took an apple from the bowl on her desk and rolled it between her hands, watching him squirm in his seat.

He rose from his seat, forcefully knocking the chair aside as his cane struck the floor, the loud bang echoing throughout the room. “Tell me where she is!” He raised his cane to point in her direction, it hovering only a breath from her neck. She still had that goddamn smirk on her face. “Please,” he added, a sinister smile poisoning his own features, as he saw her smile vanish and her eyes darken with rage. Not the boiling rage that bursts through the surface and dissipates minutes later, but the kind that festers beneath the surface, being channelled into purpose and action, instead of an outburst of emotions. The latter was a much more dangerous rage.

“She’s in the basement of the local hospital, in a cell, all locked up and shut out from the outside world.” His fury vanished and he lowered his cane. All he could think about was his love, the love he had to save. His cane hit the floor loudly as he turned on his heal and limped out of The Queen’s office as fast as his legs could carry him.

                                                                                                                       *      *      *

It had taken twenty agonizing minutes, but he had finally made it to the hospital. The staff didn’t approach him as he walked through the automatic doors. They knew he was their real boss, and his glare of concentration and determination kept their words of question at bay.

He descended a flight of stairs, which lead to the bottom floor of the hospital. It was the floor where the morgue was located and the cold, damp air chilled him to the bone. A woman sat behind a desk, her mouth pulled into a thin line, wrinkles from smoking etched on her skin. When she didn’t look up from her magazine as he approached, he banged his fist on the desk between them, the wood vibrating at the force. She looked up, horrified at his presence.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

He could tell she was searching for the words, but could not find her voice. She resigned to pointing behind him. He whipped around and was met by the sight of a metal door. It had a small window, through which one could spy on the fugitive inside. He carefully neared the door, his fingers reaching out to carefully slide the window open. He hesitated, his hand lingering in the air. He didn’t want to spy on her. He wanted to see her, to touch her, to comfort her. He couldn’t do that if he was peeping though a slit in the door. So instead he carefully pushed down the handle and the door swung open. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but whatever sight he had envisioned, it was nothing like this.

The cell was padded and on one wall, high above, were tiny windows, letting the dim evening light in. It all seemed familiar, as if he had seen it before in a dream, or in a past life. In the corner was a ledge, on which a figure sat hunched over. Auburn hair covered the figure’s face. But he didn’t need eyes to see how that face would look like. It was still etched into his very soul.

He took careful steps towards the figure, waiting for her to stir. She didn’t move. He kneeled down and looked up at her. Her arms were resting on her knees that were pulled to her chest, covering her face. She was dressed in a paper-thin hospital gown, and goose bumps covered her skin. It was nothing like the exquisite gold dress she had once owned.

“Belle?” he whispered.

She lifted her head gently, her blue eyes peeking through the blanket of hair in front of her face. Her fingers curled into fists as she looked at him. She seemed to be trying desperately to remember something, as if she was searching through her long forgotten memories and dreams for clues as to who this stranger was. He slowly raised his hand to gently caress the skin on her arm with his fingertips. She didn’t shy away. She just looked at him.

He grew braver and lifted his hands to brush away the hair from her face. The sight of her face made his breath hitch in his throat. Her skin was paler than he remembered. Her cheeks were slightly hallowed and her lips were purple from the cold. But her eyes… they were still the same glorious blue he remembered. He cradled her face in his hands. He felt his vision blur as tears fell down his cheeks. She gently lowered her knees to sit properly and leaned close to him. She raised her hands to cradle his face, mirroring his pose. Although her hands were cold, they left traces of fire on his skin. She gently brushed his tears away; her face now only inches from his.

He felt happiness wash over him as he saw her eyes widened with recognition. She remembered. She hadn’t forgotten him. Her sullen face suddenly lit up in a brilliant smile. “It’s you!” she exclaimed, her fingertips carefully running through his hair. “Of course it’s me, love.” New tears welled up in his eyes, though these were tears of joy and relief. Feeling her skin beneath his fingers, knowing that she was safe brought euphoric joy to his very soul.

She threw herself around his neck, her cold fingers clinging to the back of his coat, willing herself to never lose him again. He held her tightly, his face buried in her hair, as her scent washed over him. He felt her tremble against his chest and felt her tears of happiness stain his coat.

“You found me,” she whispered.

He only held her closer. For she belonged in his arms, for now and until eternity. 

 


End file.
